|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Bronte Sisters:
'Oh, Gilbert! how could you?' exclaimed my mother.
'I told you to hold your noise first, you know, Fergus,' said I.
'Yes, but when I assured you it was no trouble and went on with the
next verse, thinking you might like it better, you clutched me by
the shoulder and dashed me away, right against the wall there, with
such force that I thought I had bitten my tongue in two, and
expected to see the place plastered with my brains; and when I put
my hand to my head, and found my skull not broken, I thought it was
a miracle, and no mistake. But, poor fellow!' added he, with a
sentimental sigh - 'his heart's broken - that's the truth of it -
The Tenant of Wildfell Hall
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Kidnapped Santa Claus by L. Frank Baum:
all for your work."
But Santa Claus refused to be envious of the toy shops.
"I can supply the little ones but once a year--on Christmas Eve," he
answered; "for the children are many, and I am but one. And as my
work is one of love and kindness I would be ashamed to receive money
for my little gifts. But throughout all the year the children must be
amused in some way, and so the toy shops are able to bring much
happiness to my little friends. I like the toy shops, and am glad to
see them prosper."
In spite of the second rebuff, the Daemon of Hatred thought he would
try to influence Santa Claus. So the next day he entered the busy
A Kidnapped Santa Claus
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Essays of Travel by Robert Louis Stevenson:
Gowff and byasse-bowls. The houses of this towne, on both sides of
the street, have their several gardens belonging to them; and in the
lower street there be some pretty orchards, that yield store of good
fruit.' As Patterson says, this description is near enough even to-
day, and is mighty nicely written to boot. I am bound to add, of my
own experience, that Maybole is tumbledown and dreary. Prosperous
enough in reality, it has an air of decay; and though the population
has increased, a roofless house every here and there seems to protest
the contrary. The women are more than well-favoured, and the men
fine tall fellows; but they look slipshod and dissipated. As they
slouched at street corners, or stood about gossiping in the snow, it